


In Situations Like This

by Kyriadamorte



Series: The Epic Journey of Heaven's Most Adorable Angel and His Long-Suffering Brother [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brother Feels, Cheap Motels, Gen, Post-8x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 21:58:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyriadamorte/pseuds/Kyriadamorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a cheap motel room, Samandriel muses on his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Situations Like This

Samandriel is bleeding onto the unwashed sheets of a queen-sized bed in a motel room that smells like a mixture of semen and cigarettes. His eyes flit nervously from wall to wall, tracing the various forms of protection Castiel had hastily drawn there, searching for any imperfection.

He can still feel them piercing his vessel. He slowly drags one hand up to his face, tracing his fingers over the places where Castiel had healed him. Neither of them where at anything resembling their full power, so many of the other wounds had had to be left untreated for the moment.

The door to the room opens and shuts quickly. Upon seeing Castiel, Samandriel almost weeps with relief. His brother pulls up a chair to sit next to him and says, “I have paid for our accommodations under the name of John Deacon. If anyone should enter this room, you will refer to me as such. And you will be Roger Taylor.”

Samandriel isn’t entirely sure why it was necessary to relocate to this location or assume false identities, but Castiel assures him that this is what one is supposed to do in situations like this. Samandriel understands that, by this, his brother means that this is what the Winchesters do. Unlike so many of his brethren, Samandriel doesn’t begrudge Castiel his choice of role models. While they do appear to swear, drink and fornicate more than he is entirely comfortable with, they have managed to outlive several archangels and a horde of Leviathan, so perhaps it is right to follow their lead.

“Cast’l” he murmurs, finding it very hard to form words. He’s tired and in pain, in a way he’s never experienced before. He supposes that having your very essence poked and prodded will do that to a person…or even an angel.

“Yes, Samandriel?” Castiel responds. His voice is much softer than Samandriel can ever remember it being in this – or any – vessel. His eyes trace over Samandriel’s various wounds with something akin to guilt, at least from what Samandriel has learned of human facial expression. But that cannot be right. Castiel had saved him, had he not? He feels his vessel’s eyes drooping closed.

“I…I think I need to sleep…” he says, his voice filled with wonder. He’s never actually slept before. It should be interesting. He wonders if he will dream….

“Of course, brother,” says Castiel, touching Samandriel’s shoulder in a very human gesture. He wonders what other human gestures Castiel has adopted. He wonders how many of them belong to the Winchesters. He wonders…..


End file.
